Mercy
by Pratfall
Summary: Bluestreak gets unexpected help after being injured in battle. (Human Alternate Universe)
"Mercy"

Transformers human AU  
Rating is "T"; very mild gore

 **AN: So there's this song that's kind of creepy ("I know I'm a Wolf" by Young Heretics) and this one-shot happened. The 'formers in this fic resemble humans when their exo-suits are off, but similarities stop there.**

 **Takara-Tommy and Hasbro own The Transformers. Don't sue; I have a cat to feed!  
** _  
Bluestreak collapsed in a snowbank, armored fingers digging into the precipitation. No, he had to keep going. He couldn't stop. His doorwings shook as he tried to stand, watching his right leg strain under the pressure. Cyan gushed from a snapped line somewhere inside the limb and trickled to the ground, adding to the trail behind him. He should have never gotten so close to his target, now he was paying the price. The Praxian pulled his rifle out and used it to limp along for a few yards.

Was Barricade still behind him?

He turned around to see the black and white armored Praxian still stalking him; slowly, methodically... He started at how close the 'Con had gotten and attempted to run, earning a sickening snap for his trouble. Bluestreak fell again and this time he knew he wasn't getting back up. He cried out at the pain. He'd sent a distress beacon before the snowstorm, but that was hours ago... Where was his team? He whined, tears burning at the corners of his eyes beneath his mask. Bluestreak was no more important than any other soldier, but he still didn't want it to end like this. He rolled over, snow freezing his sensory panels. Maybe he could splint it...

A pair of dark red optics glared back at him. He yelped and kicked at the mech with his good leg, pushing himself backwards. "G-get, get back! I'm warning you!"  
The Decepticon looked bored and knelt down to prod the youngling's leg, "I don't think you're in any position to make threats, _Usagi._ You've a clean break in your support-strut." Bluestreak shifted as the 'Con continued his probing, "I'll be fine." Barricade shot him a fanged grin when the young one's voice wavered, "You'll be offline soon, you mean. All flights are grounded, even my faction is incapacitated. We're all alone together, _Usagi-kun_." The young mech shivered at his new nickname, "Don't call me that..." He was ignored as the older mech took a firm hold of his wrist and hacked his exo-suit. Grey and red plating folded back into Bluestreak's body revealing the damaged limb beneath. Barricade rolled up the youngling's uniform leg and whistled, "When you get hurt, you really go all out, don't you?" The grey mech didn't respond. He was bracing himself for the coming torture. "This might sting a little." Bluestreak only registered the searing scrape of two halves of a strut together before he blacked out.

 **~o~o~o~o~o~**

"Blue. Blue…BLUESTREAK!"

The platinum blonde jolted awake to First Aid shaking his arm incessantly, "Yeah, what?" His plating instantly relaxed, "Good, you're not in stasis. That was incredibly dangerous leaving your exo-suit off in this weather, you know." Wide blue eyes stared back at his bright visor. "You don't remember do you—"

"Of course I do! It was Barricade! I got too close and injured and I was bleeding all over the place and there wasn't a flight around ANYWHERE! And then it started snowing! He was stalking me and I fell…" Bluestreak peered down at his broken leg, crudely splinted with pieces of other mech's armor from the battlefield. His attention was then caught by _where_ he was. This wasn't anywhere near the battlefield; it was a cave somewhere and there was a dying fire… "And he helped me."

The young medic sat back with his peds tucked beneath him, "I guess so. You're not in any pain?" "Nope. Weird, huh?"

First Aid studied his only bare arm to see a faint needle track, "Yes…odd…" He didn't want to worry the sniper about it and his scans weren't bringing back anything nefarious. He'd just have one of the ops mechs check him over on the shuttle and tell Ratchet.

"Did you see him? I mean, I guess not since you're not all freaked out, but where do you think he went? I wanna thank him!" First Aid pulled himself up, dusting his red and white plating off, "No, but it's not a good idea to bug him, he is a 'Con." Aid flinched as his comm. rang. "C'mon the shuttle is outside. Can you stand?"

Bluestreak did so with the medic bracing him and hobbled out on his good leg. First Aid could feel him drifting back to sleep even as they walked. "Aid…you know what _usagi_ means?"

"No, what?"

"It's Praxian for rabbit. That's what Barricade kept calling me. Do you think he likes rabbits? Maybe we should get him one?" First Aid's eyes behind his visor narrowed, "He'd probably kill it."

"Yeah, you're right…what if we got one that was already dead?"

"No, Blue."

His friend went silent for a record of five nano-seconds before speaking again, "Hey, Aid, what was your name before the war?"

"Franklin—"

"The turtle," Blue finished. The young medic groaned. Now he had a pretty good idea what Barricade had injected his patient with; hi-grade. "Wow, never heard that joke before."

"Are you mad?"

"No, just cold."

"Okay…Hey, Aid?"

Neither noticed the silhouette at the very back of the cave. Barricade watched them go with a blank expression. He wasn't sentimental by any means, but something about the other mech was just so…pathetic. Black and white armor shuddered at the thought of being so weak or worse, caring about someone like that. He'd lost his humanity long ago and planned to keep it that way.

Besides, there was no rule that said you couldn't play with your prey first.

 **I read somewhere that for the Bay-verse Transformers the dialects of Autobots resemble French and for the Decepticons it's Russian. So now I've got this head-cannon each city-state's language resembles a human language.**

 **Praxian= Japanese. Oh, and** _ **usagi**_ **is Japanese for rabbit.**

 **See ya!**


End file.
